Charles, our next-door neighbor of 16 years, is moving. Almost moved, in fact - visiting him tonight, taking 4 pieces of artwork he's not inclined to take to his new apartment, I saw that his house is largely empty. All that remains are large pieces: his Steinway piano, some chairs, his computer, and a few things in the kitchen.
It occurs to me only now that I always used to be able to see him when looking out our kitchen window - not a direct view, but a reflection of him in the corner of his living room, reading, mirrored in the large dining room mirror directly across from us. He would sit there for hours, reading, but his family helped him move the chair to his apartment, so I won't see his reflection there any more.
Melancholy and loss. I am tired today, and my feelings have been wreaking havoc on me all day.